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Автор Hannay Barbara
‘I—I wish—’ Carrie began to chew at her thumbnail. After a bit, she said, ‘I wish I could remember meeting you. How did it happen? Did our eyes meet across a crowded room? Or did you chase me?’
She dropped her gaze to the gnawed thumbnail.
‘Did I flirt with you?’
Max recalled the amazing chemistry of that night. The glittering harbourside venue and that first heart-zapping moment of eye contact with Carrie. Her shining dark eyes and dazzling bright smiles … the electric shock of their bodies touching the first time they danced.
He couldn’t suppress a wry grin. ‘I reckon we could safely claim all of the above. ’
The Husband
She’d Never Met
Barbara Hannay
BARBARA HANNAY has written over forty romance novels and has won the RITA® award, the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice award, as well as Australia’s Romantic Book of the Year.
A city-bred girl, with a yen for country life, Barbara lives with her husband on a misty hillside in beautiful Far North Queensland, where they raise pigs and chickens and enjoy an untidy but productive garden.
Thank you to all the wonderful readers who have helped me to turn a hobby into the happiest of careers.
Contents
THE SUITCASE WAS almost full. Carrie stared at it in a horrified daze. It seemed wrong that she could pack up her life so quickly and efficiently.
Three years of marriage, all her hopes and dreams, were folded and neatly layered into one silver hard-shell suitcase. Her hands were shaking as she smoothed a rumpled sweater, and her eyes were blurred with tears.
She had known this was going to be hard, but this final step of closing the suitcase and walking away from Max felt as impossible and terrifying as leaping off a mountain into thin air. And yet she had no choice. She had to leave Riverslea Downs. Today. Before she weakened.
Miserably, Carrie surveyed the depleted contents of her wardrobe. She’d packed haphazardly, knowing she couldn’t take everything now and choosing at random a selection of city clothes, as well as a few pairs of jeans and T-shirts. It wasn’t as if she really cared what she wore.
It was difficult to care about anything in the future. The only way to get through this was to stay emotionally numb.
She checked the drawers again, wondering if she should squeeze in a few more items. And then she saw it, at the back of the bottom drawer: a small parcel wrapped in white tissue paper.
Her heart stumbled, then began to race. She mustn’t leave this behind.
